The Hunger Games: The Alliance
Chapter One
Her hands trembled, and if it was out of fear or the cold wind that was gusting through District 7, she did not know. She brought her fingertips over the bark of each tree as she passed it slowly, absorbing the last bit of sun that was left in the sky. She committed each rough fold and sharp edge of the bark to her memory. A memory that she would keep with her as the winds began to change—they were no longer flying towards the Capitol.
Octavia turned her head towards the sky, breathing in the clean fresh smell of air. Her lungs filled and it reminded her that she was alive. The grass felt soft beneath her bare feet—a habit she had picked up from her housemate. The bottoms were calloused over from the usual rough terrain that was right in her own backyard.
The nightmares had started weeks ago, when District 12's Victors began their tour of Panem. It started with a nagging feeling that she could not ignore—it told her to savor everything. Each night she dreamt of her games—of the boy from her district. She dreamt of the way his hands felt around her neck, but she did not fight this time. He would choke the life out of her and she was able to watch herself go peacefully into the night. She was not a Victor in that instant, and just another dead tribute.
She immediately wakes after she has died, and starts clawing at her neck in search of his hands. Instead her own claw marks adorned her face and neck. They were battle wounds from an invisible enemy that visited her in her dreams and whenever she closed her eyes.
The Victory Tour had ended a few days ago, and she and Johanna Mason watched as Panem's favorite couple walked back into their Victors Village hand in hand.
"They aren't together," Johanna said with a smirk.
"We don't know that," Octavia smiled back and shrugged, "I would hate to love someone and have the Capitol breathing down our necks. Maybe they don't like public displays of affection."
Johanna shook her head, "We faked how weak we were—we know how it is. That there is a faked relationship," Johanna set down the remote and left the room for the kitchen without another word.
Octavia stared at Katniss Everdeen for a long moment. She found it funny that President Snow was scared of the seventeen year old girl. They were now trying to bring order back to Panem by sending out peace keepers to each city that dared to defy them, and all of them did following The Girl on Fire's exit from her speech.
She planned to watch Panem fall to a handful of berries and wave in their direction as they crumbled to dust. She would not offer any fake condolences, but a smile filled with a threat and a promise.
"Octavia!" Johanna called to her.
The trees had become their place of peace away from the other Victors and the townspeople whom they tried to keep afloat with their own money that they won. Octavia had chosen to hide away from everyone, and only showed up the day of the reaping and then would not be seen again until the following year. She could not bear the thought of mentoring another young person to die in a war that they did not start.
She grabbed onto a trunk of a thin tree and used it to spin herself around until she was facing her friend and fellow Victor. Octavia was able to smile at her friends' improvement of health since her own games. She had been skin and bone, with short hair. She had chopped it off when she claimed that she could still feel the blood, and no one questioned her.
Johanna had refused to eat, attempting to kill herself through starvation after the Capitol killed her family. She denied and adamantly refused President Snow's offer to sell herself to the people of the Capitol. She refused to be thrown into a ring of unrelenting prostitution.
Now the haunted look that she once had was replaced with a murderous gaze that not many could hold.
Octavia knew that look, "What's wrong?" she questioned.
"There's going to be an announcement soon. Artemis called me. It seems that our escorts and stylists will be headed to everyone's individual homes. There's something going on in the Capitol," Johanna said.
"They don't know about it?" Octavia asked.
"No, they think it's for the Quarter Quell. It's not supposed to be announced for another month!" She replied exasperated.
"It's because of her, isn't it?" Octavia asked.
Johanna nodded her head and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from yelling. "You'll have to mentor the tribute this time. Clarke is too young to do it—she's just fifteen. It's hard, but you can't run from it this time."
Octavia shrugged her shoulders once again and swung around the tree one more time. Her composure was still intact, and Johanna took it for a good sign.
"Why?" Octavia questioned. "They hate me, because I killed their Victor. District 5 hates my guts and wishes that I didn't come back. They weren't rooting for the little girl. They thought I was weak and fearful, and now they are afraid of me," she replied cynically.
"We all did things we hated," Johanna moved forward and stopped Octavia from taking another turn around the tree. "I know you suffer from nightmares too," she closed her eyes in aggravation, "that Katniss Everdeen has put a giant target on all of our backs."
"She did what you and I couldn't do. She and that girl from District 10—they sparked it. Now it's our turn to choose what side of history we're going to be on," Octavia pointed out. She let go of the tree and took Johanna's arm in her own.
She was living in district 7 with Johanna since her games. Octavia cut a deal with President Snow, one that cost her, her own body and in return she did not return to District 5. During her Victory Tour she felt the anger and hatred that had festered among the people there for her. They did not expect her to live for even a day.
Octavia won the 72nd Hunger Games and a day did not pass that she didn't pray she died in that arena with the other tributes. Her last kill was her district partner, but not before he placed his hands around her neck and attempted to strangle her after she wanted them both to go home.
He was concerned with becoming a Victor, while she thought of survival.
Octavia stared at her bare feet, the mud and dirt caked between her toes, before bringing her gaze up to Johanna. "I would give up my life to do half of what she has done for Panem. The people are whispering of a rebellion, and I want to be there with them."
Johanna looked around quickly, because talk of a rebellion in public would only result in their tongue becoming detached from their bodies. They would become a slave to the Capitol, more than what they were now. No one wished for the life of an Avox.
"We have to get back—they're going to announce the games soon and you know Haymitch will call me," Johanna told her.
Octavia smiled and nodded. They began their walk through the village and towards their home. People flinched away from them and whispered their names in fear and awe. They watched as families scurried into their homes, awaiting the big announcement.
Blight greeted them at the gates, his shy disposition showing through, as his ears turned pink when Octavia smiled and said good afternoon to him. He explained that he didn't want to watch it alone, and asked to watch it with them.
"Of course you can," Octavia reassured him when Joanna rolled her eyes.
"At least we aren't up for the picking," she hissed, "Does he think this will go on for forever?" Joanna questioned.
"Let's go, Joanna."
Joanna led both Victors through her house and into the living room. Joanna and Octavia sat side by side on the couch while Blight stood behind it, pacing back and forth until the small device came from the ceiling and projected the TV onto the wall.
They leaned forward with anticipation, and hand in hand, for President Snow. The Capitol's seal was present on the screen until Caesar began talking and introduced President Snow. He walked slowly to the Podium. A white rose was tucked into his suit jacket, and he coughed to get everyone's attention. The crowd in the Capitol died down, allowing for him to speak.
"Ladies and Gentleman, this is the 75th year of the Hunger Games," the applause for the vicious game silenced him for a few moments. They were wild with want—the blood lust was there and packaged in pretty clothes and fancy jewels. "It was written that every 25 years there would be a Quarter Quell to keep things fresh for generations to come. Each Quarter Quell is marked with a special significance.
"In honor of the third Quarter Quell—75 years since we squashed the rebellion that would kill our Panem," and more applause followed his speech.
Johanna and Octavia looked to one another, and held their breaths for his next sentence.
"For this Quarter Quell, to remind us that no force is powerful enough to go against the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of Victors," Octavia's heart stopped and the world was becoming hazy, "in each district. May the odds be ever in your favor." He swung himself around and left the stage, leaving a shocked Capitol.
Octavia sat silently for a moment, then regained her composure. In an angry fit she threw the remote in her hands at the hologram of the Capitol and let out a scream of defiance. She began to hyperventilate and fell to her knees when her legs could not keep her standing. Her nightmare was becoming real, and she knew that she would not survive the games—not this time.
She wrapped her arms around her stomach, afraid her stomach would bubble up and release the contents of her lunch.
"NO!" Johanna screamed at the hologram. She began on her rampage and began to wreck the house—it did not matter to her, because everything belonged to Snow. She pulled pictures and frames off the walls before smashing them into the windows and mirrors in the house. The piano and larger furniture was overturned with the help of Blight.
"We're getting screwed over again by the Capitol! He thinks he can get away with this—I won't do it. I was promised," she growled. "I was promised to live out the rest of my days!"
Octavia started to claw at her ears and her scalp, praying that she had heard him wrong. He would not send them in again. Her game still felt fresh and she began to rock back and forth, as the tears slipped effortlessly down her face.
Johanna looked to her friends and began searching frantically for something in her house. She turned over her mess, searching the scattered items until she moved into her kitchen and brought out a phone. Spinning the dial she picked up the receiver and tapped her foot impatiently.
"Odair!" she yelled into the phone.
Blight looked white as a ghost, and finally sat down on the floor and rested his head in his hands.
"What's the plan? I know he has a plan, Odair," she growled. "Call Haymitch? I'm the only one who can get reaped here for women," tears were building in her eyes, "I don't think Octavia has a chance—the only other person is a young girl. You saw her the first time, so do you think this time will be any different?" she questioned.
"I'm going in," Octavia's voice was gritty.
"She just said she'll be there—we'll see you in the Capitol. Ha, tell Mags and Annie we send our love," Joanna said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes and threw the receiver down on the dining room table.
Octavia brought her arms around her legs, and leaned her head back against the couch cushion. She was shaking from the adrenaline spike from her body being on auto-pilot. She knew she was going back into the arena.
Joanna moved to the floor and sat next to her in silence.
"They're screwing us over," she said with shock still in her voice.
Octavia looked over, her facial expression held nothing, but numbness. She knew what it was coming down to.
"They're going to try to kill her, and to hide it they'll kill all of us," Octavia swallowed. She shook her head and began to laugh, the situation getting to her. "We're Victors and we are scared to go back into the games. Do you think the careers are this terrified?"
"I don't know—they seem to feed off of the fear. I wouldn't be surprised if they were happy about it," Johanna spat.
"I'm not afraid you know," Octavia trailed off.
"Afraid of what?" Questioned Blight.
"To die. I'm not afraid," she supplied. "None of us should be afraid. We can do something—there has to be a law or another rule to prohibit this."
"Snow probably destroyed it by now if there was one existing," Blight sighed.
"We need to call Haymitch—get him to meet us in the Capitol somewhere. Things are changing and the Capitol knows it—Snow knows it," Johanna looked to Octavia, "Let's make them pay for it." It was decided.
She knew she would need to go home and be properly reaped by the Capitol. They would get their show when she went up on the stage. The three Victors sat on the ground as the watched the rest of the show. Caesar and his co-host discussed the Victors that were alive and able to go back into the Arena.
Johanna sat and analyzed everyone that they would have to go up against, while Octavia ignored it the best she could, until her name was called.
"Here we have Octavia Blake. She took after the previous game winner Johanna Mason," Caesar smiled.
"She seems to be residing in District Seven with her inspiration as well," said another commentator.
"Last time we had the pleasure of her company, she did say the two were good friends. She may be one of our tributes this year if not the younger Miss Clarke, who won the year before our favorite lovers. We could only be so lucky to have Octavia back once again. She was absolutely stunning! Can we pull up a photo of her?" He questioned.
Soon a photo of she and Johanna appeared on the screen from her Victory tour. She looked over her face and body, comparing it to how she looked now. If it was possible she looked thinner and perhaps more sickly.
"She was fearless—a determination we had not seen since Finnick Odair! Which brings us to our next possible tribute," she stopped listening at that point and he trailed off as she listened to Blight mumbling to himself.
Johanna and Octavia fell asleep next to each other on the floor of the living room, as all of their previous games played and flashed on the screen. The lack of sleep from staying up late did not prepare them for the horrid sounds of peace keepers smashing their fists against their door.
She was unable to grab many of her things besides one bag, before they grabbed her by her upper arms and began to drag her out of the house and towards the train.
"I'll bring them!" Johanna called out. Octavia was grateful as she was thrown onto the train.
Almatheia was waiting on the train, done up and proper, in the bar car. She had been Octavia's escort from District 5.
"My dear! Come here," She quickly pulled Octavia into a bone crushing hug as she stumbled forward in her pointed heels. Octavia was taken back by her kindness—she hadn't seen her in years. "Lear is here as well! Oh, he will love to see you."
"It's nice to see you Almatheia. Lear will have his hands full as will you I suppose. I haven't been home since, and I do not think they will take kindly to me," Octavia expressed her reservations about returning home.
"Nonsense, you are a Victor. You are not to run from them, but they should be grateful for you. You gave them a whole year of flourishing!" she insisted.
"They do not see it like that," Octavia explained.
A door opened and Lear walked through, "they do not need to be concerned. We are here for you, Octavia."
Octavia gave him a genuine smile and rushed into his waiting arms. He had been her first and only friend in the Capitol during her games, despite Almatheia being considered one now. They did not get along at first. She laid her head on his chest and he rubbed her back affectionately. He was older than her and took her under his wing like a big brother. His pale skin contrasted against his bright blue hair. He had also acquired quite a few new piercings from what Octavia could see.
"You will be electric and take the Capitol by storm. The Girl on Fire will even be staring at you when I am done," he challenged.
"Like I said," she huffed, "you have your work cut out for you. Do you think you can handle it?"
He laughed and pushed her away from him playfully, "Cinna isn't the only one with tricks up his sleeves—he also asked for help on his new costume. We may not outdo her, but you'll shine brightly like her. I have a vision and you need to help me fulfill it."
"My body is yours to dress," Octavia conceded.
"Always what we like to hear," Amaltheia cut in, "but now it's time to talk strategy. They know you are not weak anymore. You and Johanna will have to drop that. We're going to work on your new image."
Octavia nodded in compliance. She doubted that the Capitol would believe her innocent remarks and face now that she had exposed herself to everyone. They knew her strategy and they would be weary of her and Johanna. An alliance would not be made easy.
"I also have a message from Haymitch, for you," Almatheia looked around.
"What is he saying?"
"The Mockingjay is happening," she whispered low in Octavia's ear. No peacekeeper or citizen of the Capitol would hear them.
"Who told you?" Octavia questioned her, trying to keep her voice low.
She looked around and at Lear, "Effie—she is their Escort. She's not doing too well with the way her Victors were treated and we do not wish to see ours go into the games either. He will have a meeting for everyone who is in when the time comes."
"Tell Effie that I'm in—anything I can do," she looked at the plate in front of her. "I have nothing left. I'll do it."
"You have everything left," Lear slapped his hands on the table. "You could win this thing, damn it, Octavia. You have the rest of your life—believe in yourself. Amaltheia and I have always believed in you—ever since you volunteered for that girl. We knew you could make it, so why can't you?" he asked her.
Octavia didn't have an answer, at least not one that would sooth or please him. Instead she switched the subject and asked how she was going to get sponsors this year, but in the back of her mind she was planning. They sat around the table as the train blurred on the tracks, taking her home, and sentencing her to her fate all the same.